


The Bet

by CanyonWinds



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 6th year, F/M, but it definitely stands on its own, james and lily trying to figure themselves out, kind of brooklyn 99 inspired
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-10-13 21:08:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17495408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanyonWinds/pseuds/CanyonWinds
Summary: “Oh please, Evans. I may be a Marauder, but I’m also a steadfast and loyal Gryffindor.” He clasped one hand dramatically to his heart. “When my House is in need, I can rise to the occasion and—”“—lose one hundred points in one go?” Lily interjected.Or, the one where James and Sirius lose Gryffindor a ton of House points, Lily challenges James to a competition in which she may soon be way over her head, and really they should all be studying for their exams. If she loses, she has to go on a date with James, which is horrifying, but if (when) she wins, she gets his favorite band t-shirt--so that's definitely worth it, right?





	1. Chapter 1

“What the BLOODY HELL happened?”

The day had begun like any other at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The sun was shining, the giant squid was basking on the surface of the Black Lake, and the Whomping Willow was swinging its branches at birds that flew too close. And yet, inside the castle, it had not taken long before the students of Gryffindor House had realized that something was _very_ wrong.   

Dorcas Meadowes was the first of the Gryffindor sixth year girls to have found her voice. The three of them were slack-jawed in the entrance hall, having pushed their way to the front of the crowd that was congregated there. Mary MacDonald spoke next, her voice coming out in a squeak.

“It—it has to be a  mistake. . . . Right?”

As it was currently taking all of Lily Evans’ strength to resist turning around and hexing the group of guffawing fifth year Slytherin boys that were huddled behind them, she didn’t say anything. This was quite the last straw for her morning, Lily thought. She’d been up half the night revising for her Arithmancy test this morning, and all she’d wanted to do was just go into the Great Hall and pour herself the largest cup of coffee known to Wizardkind.

But of course the girls had had to stop in the entrance hall first and see what all the fuss was about. A crowd had gathered around the enormous hourglasses that held the point totals for each of the four Houses. Just last night, the Gryffindors had gone to bed secure in the knowledge that they held a comfortable lead for the House Cup. And yet, this morning—

 _“One hundred points,”_ Dorcas moaned. She ran a hand through her short-cropped curls, her face absolutely desolate. “Well there goes all the points we earned for winning the Quidditch Cup. . .”

Lily shook her head in disbelief. “What absolute idiot went out and lost one hundred points in _one night?”_

“That’s _idiots,_ plural,” drawled a voice right at Lily’s ear, making her jump.

One of Lily’s least-favorite people on the planet, Marcus Avery, was smirking from right behind her. He was accompanied by two of his fellow Slytherins, Adrian Mulciber and Severus Snape. She wasn’t exactly wild about Mulciber, either, and as for Snape . . . well, things had been complicated between the two of them for quite some time.

“Piss off, Avery,” said Lily, more out of habit than anything. She didn’t have the strength to deal with Slytherins before her morning coffee.

“You heard her, move along,” Dorcas snapped, shooing them with her arms.  

But Avery’s expression only grew more insufferable. “Just thought you’d be interested in knowing who’s to blame for Gryffindor’s fall from fortune,” he said smoothly. “We were just on our way into the Great Hall to thank them, actually. . . .”

To Lily’s dismay, a quick glance confirmed that the hourglass filled with emeralds was, indeed, the most full. With barely three weeks left until the end of term, things looked rather bleak for Gryffindor.

“We’re not inter—” Dorcas began defiantly, but Mary had spoken up at the same time.

“Who?”

Lily and Dorcas both looked at her in exasperation, and Mary, seeming to have realized her mistake, winced. The three Slytherins exchanged a look of triumph, and Lily thought, not for the first time, about how satisfying it would be to punch Avery right in his smug face.

But it was not Avery who responded this time, but Snape. “Who else?” he spat, his face twisted in the look of disgust he reserved when talking about just two people. “The Gryffindor _heroes,_ Potter and Black.”

 _Of course._ Lily thought she ought to have known. After all, if there was anyone capable of losing an immense amount of points in one go, it was certainly James Potter and Sirius Black. She could feel Snape’s eyes on her, as though waiting for her to defend them as she’d done in the past, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Instead, she very deliberately turned away from him, avoiding his gaze. She’d said all that she had to say to Severus Snape a long time ago.

“I’m going to KILL THEM!”

Dorcas had exploded without warning, and without another word, she stalked off in the direction of the Great Hall. Lily and Mary exchanged looks and immediately hurried after her. Lily could hear the Slytherins laughing behind them.

Dorcas was rather taller than both Lily and Mary, and her long legs carried her quickly into the Great Hall, leaving the two other girls to  all but run after her to keep up. She didn’t hesitate, but made her way directly to the middle of the Great Hall, where two dark-haired boys were sitting together eating breakfast.

Typically, the two boys made themselves the center of attention, talking and laughing so that half the Great Hall could hear them. So it was rather out of character, Lily thought, for them to be sitting on their own. They didn’t seem to be talking at all, which was also surprising—Lily didn’t think she’d known a moment at Hogwarts when at least one of them wasn’t talking.

“WHAT did you lot do this time?” Dorcas all but screamed as she approached them.

James and Sirius both backed away from her with what looked like genuine alarm. Dorcas played Chaser alongside James on Gryffindor’s Quidditch team, and usually got on with him quite well. The two exchanged brief looks before responding.

“Not sure what you mean, Meadowes,” said Sirius briskly.

“You see, we’ve done a lot of things already just this morning,” James explained.

“Put on clean socks—brushed our teeth—”

“—walked to the Great Hall—nearly got on a staircase that started moving and would’ve taken us all the way to the fourth floor corridor—close call, that—”

“—and now we’re eating breakfast,” Sirius concluded, waving his hand helpfully at the half-eaten breakfast plates before them. “I decided to go with the bacon this morning, but to be honest I’m sort of starting to wish I’d chosen the sausage—”

Lily didn’t think she’d ever seen someone’s head look more likely to explode. James and Sirius often had this effect on people, even under the best of circumstances. She shoved the ever more furious Dorcas in Mary’s direction, knowing that Mary would be better at talking Dorcas back down, and decided she’d better take over.

“Listen, and I want you to keep in mind that I was up all night revising and haven’t had my morning coffee yet, so think about that carefully before you respond. Were you, or were you not, the ones that lost Gryffindor one hundred points last night?” 

James and Sirius exchanged looks once again. Even in her frustration and annoyance, Lily couldn’t help but be impressed (not for the first time) at how much they were able to communicate without using a single word.

“Well, it really depends on your definition of—” Sirius began, but James cut him off.

“Yeah. It was us.” 

Lily thought her surprise must have shown on her face—she hadn’t expected such a straight-forward response. Sirius looked annoyed, whether because James had confessed so quickly or because he’d interrupted Sirius mid-gag, it was hard to tell.

Dorcas, meanwhile, made an attempt to lunge at James, and was barely restrained by Mary. “How _could_ you?” Dorcas howled, fighting desperately against Mary. “We just won the Quidditch Cup not two days ago, and you’ve already gone and blown our chances at the House Cup—”

“Yeah, thanks for that, Potter!” called out Avery, his smirk visible all the way across the Great Hall at the Slytherin table. Dorcas had been causing quite the scene, which was being watched with interest by quite a few students.

Sirius responded to the influx of jeers and catcalls from the Slytherins that followed Avery’s words with a hand gesture that, quite luckily, went unseen by any of the teachers at the Head Table; otherwise, Lily was sure he would have lost Gryffindor even more House points.

“It’s not like we set out to lose all those points,” James said to Dorcas, his voice growing testy. “And besides, we’ll win them back. It’s not a huge deal.”

Lily snorted, unable to stop herself. James turned on her with a hard look.

“Something funny, Evans?”

Severus Snape wasn’t the only student at Hogwarts with whom Lily had a complicated relationship. Things between her and James had always been, well, rocky, to say the least. Still, she considered them friends. Lately, he’d taken to sitting near her in Transfiguration and trying to make her laugh during Professor McGonagall’s lectures. He’d succeeded more times than she liked to admit, and every time had resulted in a stern admonishment from McGonagall. Meanwhile, he would look on with an innocent expression that fooled no one. Though she’d tried, Lily still hadn’t been able to get him back; she’d actually been able to make him laugh a couple of times, but McGonagall had never called him out on it. Which wasn’t actually that surprising, since James had always been McGonagall’s favorite—he could get away with murder in her class as long as he kept winning Gryffindor the Quidditch Cup.

Speaking of the Quidditch Cup, Lily thought that she and James had _almost_ had a moment during the party celebrating their win over the weekend. She’d been talking and laughing with Mary and Dorcas when he had pranced over, looking absolutely ridiculous with his Gryffindor tie wrapped around his head and an enormous Gryffindor flag draped over his shoulders like a cape. He’d grabbed her by both of her hands and started pulling her away towards an open space in front of the fireplace.

“Dance with me, Evans?” 

“There’s no music,” she’d protested feebly, but it was hard to refuse him anything when he was looking so ridiculous and his glasses were gleaming in the firelight. So she’d let him spin her round and round until, completely dizzy and breathless with laughter, they’d finally both collapsed onto the nearest couch.

But she and James weren’t always on such good terms, and the way that he was looking at her now, here in the Great Hall, made her feel like maybe now was one of those times.

She looked him defiantly in the eye. “It’s just that I thought you were only capable of losing points, not winning them.”

Sirius choked on his bacon. “Damn, Evans,” he said, laughingly leaning across the table with his hand raised for a high-five. “That was cold.”

She leaned forward to high-five him, still looking James dead in the eye. James raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Oh please, Evans. I may be a Marauder, but I’m also a steadfast and loyal Gryffindor.” He clasped one hand dramatically to his heart. “When my House is in need, I can rise to the occasion and—”

“—lose one hundred points in one go?” Lily interjected with a sweet smile.

Dorcas and Mary both laughed; Lily was glad to see that Dorcas was no longer quite so homicidal.

Meanwhile, James had narrowed his eyes in obvious annoyance, though his tone remained light. “Your lack of faith in me is wounding, Evans. I’ll have you know that I can win points. In fact, I  could win more than you any day.”

“You’d better,” Dorcas spoke up fiercely. “Because I didn’t train all year to win us the Quidditch Cup just to have you two prats undo all of that work in one night! I can’t believe—”

Lily wasn’t really listening to Dorcas, because James’ words had given her an idea. She turned it over in her head, considering. Normally she probably wouldn’t have even considered voicing it, but the prospect of continuing to give James a hard time was just too enticing to pass up.

“Do you really think so?” she asked James abruptly, interrupting Dorcas in the middle of her tirade.

“Think what?” he asked quickly, obviously glad of anything that would cut short Dorcas’ harangue.

Dorcas looked even more annoyed than before, but she and Lily had been friends too long for Lily to be too worried about it. She knew Dorcas well enough to know that all of her anger would pass by lunchtime today. Unlike Lily, Dorcas didn’t hold grudges.

“That you can win more points than me,” said Lily, struggling to keep her voice casual.

“Oh, that. Of course I can.” His tone was dismissive. She could tell he was still annoyed by her harsh words from earlier.

Trying to repress her excitement, she sat down next to him at the table, squeezing herself between him and a third year boy who gave her a startled look. She only had to stare him down for a moment before he scooted over to give her more space. Then she turned her attention back to James.

“I have an idea. Let’s have a competition—let’s see which one of us can win the most points before the term ends.”

Lily could tell she had his attention. In the six years she’d known him, she’d never known James Potter to turn down a competition. As for Lily herself, well—she never turned down a competition, either. The chance to show up James was one that she didn’t feel like she could miss. After all, she always enjoyed knocking him down a few pegs, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity to do so.

James smirked and raised his eyebrows challengingly. “That’s hardly a competition—I already know I’d win. So, what would be in it for me?”

She hesitated—she hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. “Er—the loser owes the winner a Butterbeer—?” she suggested half-heartedly, but James was already shaking his head.

“No, no.” He waved the suggestion away with his hand. “You’re thinking too small, Evans.”

“If she loses, she could go on a date with you,” Sirius suggested around a mouthful of bacon.

Lily made a face. “Ew,” she said flatly.

James had asked her out in the past, and she had always turned him down—her answers growing increasingly sarcastic and impertinent each time. To be honest, it was a wonder he still talked to her at all, given some of the things she’d said to him. At the end of the last school year, James had attempted to ask her out while in the midst of attacking her former best friend, Severus Snape. Besides resulting in the end of Lily and Snape’s friendship, Lily had told him, among other things, that she would rather date the giant squid. At the time, it had been a very dramatic event for everyone involved, but a year on, Lily felt like it had all worked out for the best. She’d finally been able to see Snape for what he was, and James had definitely mellowed over the past year.

James stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Now _that’s_ interesting.” He paused. “But I understand how, knowing I’m going to win, you wouldn’t want to make that bet—”

Lily certainly hadn’t foreseen such high stakes for herself when suggesting this competition, but she wasn’t about to back out now. “No, no, I’ll do it,” she assured him. Mimicking James’ own cocky attitude, she added, “We won’t get anywhere close to a date.”

James didn’t seem perturbed by this. He continued tauntingly, “And, in the almost entirely unlikely scenario that you manage to win—what do you get out of it?”

Lily had her answer ready. _“When_ I win, I get your Ridgebacks t-shirt.”

At that, Sirius gasped aloud, and James stared at her in genuine astonishment. “You wouldn’t!”

 _“And_ I’m going to wear it to their concert in London this summer.” She blinked innocently, fighting down a smirk. “Unless of course you—what was it?—wouldn’t want to make that bet, knowing I’m going to win.”

James shook his head, glowering at her. “Minx. Fine, you have a deal.” He held out his hand for her to shake. “But _I’ll_ be the one wearing that shirt to their show, thank you very much.”

Lily smiled sweetly as she shook his hand. “We’ll just see about that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had no real intention of writing this story, but I was inspired by Jake and Amy's bet in season 1 of Brooklyn 99, and I just couldn't get the idea out of my head! There will probably be 2 or 3 more chapters, so I hope you stick around, and please let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lily learns something disconcerting about a former friend, someone finally takes a lead in the bet, and Peter just has a very rough day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter posted, but since it's a longer chapter, hopefully that will make up for it!

It came as no surprise to anyone when James claimed the seat next to Lily during Transfiguration, their first class of the morning. He slid into the chair just before Dorcas, who very nearly ended up in his lap. She shoved him and grumbled, _“Prat,”_ but moved her things to another desk without any further complaint.

James appeared unfazed, instead turning his attention to Lily with a smirk playing around his lips. “Ready for our date, Evans? Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to plan something _very_ special.”

Lily rolled her eyes as she pulled her textbook out of her bag. “Unless you’re planning on also going to the Ridgebacks concert where I will be wearing your shirt, then there’s really no point. Because that is definitely the closest we will ever get to a date.”

James’ smirk only broadened. “You tell yourself that. But I’ve got this bet all wrapped up. Wanna know why?”

Lily decided to take the bait, but she did her best to keep her tone flat and uninterested. “Why’s that?”

“Two words—Minerva McGonagall.” He leaned back in his seat, apparently satisfied, stretching his long legs out into the aisle and causing Heather McKinley to give him an annoyed look as she tried to get past him to a seat. “She loves me, Evans. _Loves_ me. I bet I win those hundred points back just during her class today.”

Lily, who had passed Professor McGonagall on her way out the Great Hall that morning and had seen what sort of a mood she was in, only smiled. “We’ll see.”

Professor McGonagall swept into the classroom, her lips pressed together into a more severe line than usual. She dropped a stack of books onto her desk with an enormous _thud_ , and then turned around without saying a word to begin writing on the blackboard.

While her back was still turned, James leaned toward Lily across the aisle and continued in a low, taunting voice, “I’d say that you might have a chance of winning some points from McGonagall, too, but since you’re the troublemaker who keeps laughing in the middle of her lectures—”

“Something you wish to share with the class, Potter?” Professor McGonagall’s voice cracked across the classroom like a whip. She hadn’t even turned around, her hand gripping the chalk still raised to the blackboard. James straightened so quickly in his seat he nearly fell out of his chair.

“Er, no, Professor,” he said, his hand jumping up to his hair as it always did when he was nervous. “Sorry, Professor.”

Lily emitted a snicker that she immediately tried to stifle with both of her hands, but unfortunately, not quickly enough.

“And for goodness’ sake, Miss Evans, try to keep your giggling to yourself today, won’t you?”

At this, James looked somewhat appeased, but both he and Lily attempted to keep their heads down for the remainder of the lesson. It was their last class of the school year, and with their final exam coming up next week, Professor McGonagall used the class time to review the work they’d done throughout the year. Towards the end of the lesson, McGonagall hinted strongly that human transfiguration would figure on their exam, and set them to practicing changing the color of their eyebrows. 

After a few minutes of diligent practicing, Lily could no longer resist and turned towards James with a smirk. “So, what was that you were saying, Potter? About how much McGonagall _loves_ you?”

James turned to her with his eyebrows quirked upward. He’d already managed to transfigure one of them a vivid electric blue, while the other was a sort of lime green. She would never admit it to him, but he had a point—ordinarily, McGonagall really _did_ love him, and it had to do with more than just his Quidditch victories for Gryffindor. When it came to Transfiguration, he was practically a genius. Again, not that she would _ever_ tell him that—she would never hear the end of it.

“A minor setback,” he said lightly. He tapped his blue eyebrow with his wand and it turned a violent shade of magenta. “She’s just in a bad mood today, that’s all—”

“A bad mood that I’m sure has _nothing_ to do with you and Black losing Gryffindor’s lead for the House Cup?”

James glanced surreptitiously in Professor McGonagall’s direction. She was in the middle of berating both Sirius and Peter Pettigrew—Peter for somehow managing to make his eyebrows start growing instead of changing color, and Sirius for just laughing instead of helping him. Peter’s eyebrows had grown so long that they hung partway down his chest, and showed no signs of stopping their growth. Sirius, for his part, showed no signs of being able to stop laughing, even as McGonagall continued her tirade.  

James waved an airy hand. “Who can say?”

McGonagall finally swept back to her desk as a chortling Sirius helped Peter (who had to hold his still-growing eyebrows up out of his eyes with both of his hands so that he could see where he was going) out the classroom door and to the hospital wing. Despite his dismissive words, James didn’t seem willing to take any chances. After eying the professor warily for a moment, he turned back to Lily and his manner turned businesslike.

“Now, let’s fix that grip on your wand, Evans—you’ll never transfigure an eyebrow with that sloppy posture. Here—”

He leaned across both of their desks and, before she knew what he was doing, wrapped his hand around hers. His long fingers, callused from so much time spent gripping his broomstick, deftly maneuvered her own into place around her wand. But she found that, for some reason, it was hard to think about Transfiguration while his hand was touching hers.

“I think I’ve got it, thanks.” Lily pulled her hand away awkwardly. Screwing her eyes closed (for some reason, it was also hard to concentrate with James watching her), Lily tapped her eyebrow with her wand and said, _“Crinus muto.”_

Opening her eyes a fraction so that she could look into the mirror on her desk, Lily let out a squeal. Her left eyebrow was now a pale periwinkle blue. She wheeled around in her seat, pointing frantically at her eyebrow. _“I did it!”_  

James couldn’t resist a smile at her obvious enthusiasm. “Knew you had it in you, Evans.”

Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall had bypassed both James and Lily, and had stopped next to the desk of Remus Lupin, whose eyebrows were both a bright yellow. “Excellent work, Mr. Lupin,” she was saying. “I’m glad to see _someone_ in this class is taking this assignment seriously. Ten points to Gryffindor.”

As Professor McGonagall continued to move along the row of desks, James and Lily both whipped around to send Remus equally astonished looks. Remus raised his yellow eyebrows and sent them both a mischievous smile before turning his attention back to his textbook.

Lily sank back down into her chair, folding her arms tightly across her chest. “Okay, she hates us.”

“Definitely,” James agreed.

 

 

Lily’s next class of the day was Arithmancy. She was the only Gryffindor in the class, so she parted ways with her friends in the Transfiguration corridor and made her way alone through the crowded halls. The mood of her fellow students was unusually serious. With exams so close, the anxiety in the air was almost palpable, and quite a few students were walking through the corridors with textbooks under their noses.

Today, however, Lily didn’t feel inclined to join them. After all, she had spent so much time studying for her Arithmancy test the night before that she was feeling quite confident. She couldn’t even be bothered by the fact that she hadn’t won any points in Transfiguration, mostly because James hadn’t won any either, which was almost more satisfying. Besides, it was only one class. She had plenty of time to get the points she needed to win that shirt.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she nearly crashed into someone at the classroom door, only pulling back at the very last second.  

“I’m so s—” Lily began, but then stopped short when she saw who it was.

Severus Snape was looking at her with eyes cold enough to freeze the words in her mouth. He didn’t say anything, but he also didn’t go into the classroom right away. They both hung awkwardly in the doorway, waiting for the other to make the first move.

Finally, Lily gestured toward the door with her arm. “After you,” she said, in the politest tone she could muster.

Snape looked for a moment as though he was about to speak. But instead, he closed his mouth and ducked his head, his dark, greasy hair swinging around his ears as he swept past her into the classroom. Lily followed, her mood souring when she realized that the only seat left in the classroom was— _of course_ —next to Snape.

It was weird to think that he had once been her best friend. Looking at him now felt like looking at a complete stranger. Ever since their friendship had ended so publicly and so definitively the year before, Lily took great pains to avoid him whenever and however possible. But still, it was strange to look at someone she once knew so well and realize that she knew nothing about his thoughts, his plans, or his dreams anymore.

Before Lily could sit down, there was a clatter of objects, and she realized that Snape’s bag had spilled out into the aisle. Without thinking about it, she knelt down to help him gather his scattered items.

“No, it’s okay—” he muttered, without looking at her, his long white hands scrambling for his inkpot before it rolled away.

“It’s fine,” Lily insisted, gathering up some loose scraps of parchment. But then she took a look at the scrap on the top of the pile, and she froze.

The image that she saw—carefully sketched out in black ink—made her stomach turn over. It was a skull, with a mouth that was wide and gaping. And out of the mouth of the skull, an enormous snake spilled out, flicking a sharp tongue.

She felt sure that she had seen that image before, though she couldn’t think where. Her skin scrawled as she looked at it.

It looked as though there was writing on the back of the parchment, not in Snape’s cramped scrawl that she knew so well, but in a loopy, elegant hand. But before she could get a closer look, Snape had yanked the parchment out of her hands.

“I don’t need your help,” he snapped, shoving the parchment, along with the rest of his things, back into his bag and out of sight.

Lily took a long, hard look at him. “No,” she said finally. “No, you’ve made that _abundantly_ clear.”

She was very grateful that Professor Vector chose that moment to enter the classroom. But Lily found that, for the second time that morning, she couldn’t concentrate in class. Even as she jotted down answers during the test, making calculations and increasingly complex number charts, she found that the image of the skull and the snake wouldn’t leave her mind. Just the memory of them made her feel sick.

It wasn’t until she was halfway through her test that it finally hit her. Just last week, there had been a picture of that exact image in the Daily Prophet. In the picture, it had been floating in the sky above a home just outside of London, accompanied by the headline, “Four Dead in Another Mysterious Attack.”

The quill that Lily had been using snapped violently, causing the students around her to look up briefly from their tests. Professor Vector glanced up from the work she had been correcting at her desk.

“Everything alright, Miss Evans?”

“Y-yes. Fine, Professor. I’m sorry.”

Professor Vector sent her a kindly smile before returning to her work. Lily looked back down at the mass of numbers she’d been charting on her parchment, but they now seemed to be swimming in front of her.

The worst part was, she knew she shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, Snape had been attracted by the Dark Arts ever since she could remember. Hadn’t that been the breaking point of their friendship? That he was on his way to becoming a Death Eater?

Still, there was something about holding the proof in her hands, something tangible that said, after all, she had been right.

There was a shuffle of movement to her right. She looked down and saw that a new quill had appeared on her desk. When she glanced at Snape, he was bent down low over his desk, scrawling furiously across his parchment.

She picked up the quill and rolled it over in her fingers. “Thanks,” she muttered.

But Snape didn’t reply.

 

 

Lily couldn’t have been more grateful that the period after Arithmancy was a free period. In fact, looking back on it later, she never was quite sure how she got through the rest of her test. As she made her way back to the Gryffindor common room, her mind was still full of mysterious attacks, and skulls and snakes, and (though she hated to admit it) her former best friend. 

There was no way that she had passed her Arithmancy test.

“Lily!”

Lily had very nearly made it to the Fat Lady’s portrait when the sound of her name, as well as running footsteps behind her, stopped her in her tracks.

 _“Blimey,_ Lily,” Dorcas panted, as she approached. “I’ve been trying to get your attention since the Charms corridor! Are you on another planet?” Without giving Lily a chance to respond, Dorcas pressed on, “I wanted to warn you, I heard that James and Sirius have something waiting for you in the common room—”

Lily frowned, having a hard time in her distracted state keeping up with Dorcas’ breakneck words. “What do you—”

But Dorcas had already turned her attention to the Fat Lady. “Vox nihili.”

The Fat Lady laughed darkly. “Indeed,” she said, as she swung her portrait forward.

With absolutely no idea of what to expect, Lily summoned her Gryffindor courage and led the way into the common room. No sooner had she stepped through the portrait hole, than there was an enormous _bang!_ that seemed to reverberate through the whole room. Lily shrieked (something she would later vehemently deny), and before she could get her bearings, upbeat music had begun blaring around her. She blinked rapidly and used her arms to wave away what she quickly realized was confetti falling from the ceiling.

“Lily Evans!” boomed a voice from somewhere in the common room, a voice that even through her confusion and thick layers of confetti that she would recognize anywhere as the smarmy voice of Sirius Black. “So good of you to join us!”

Lily followed his voice and found him standing on a table in the center of the room, his arms spread out wide like a cheesy game show host as confetti fell around him.

Lily groaned. “Please don’t tell me you’ve just been standing there waiting for me to walk in.”

Sirius ignored her, however, pressing on exuberantly, “And now we welcome the man of the hour, James Fleamont Potter!”

James, who Lily hadn’t noticed amidst all the confetti, clambered onto the table beside Sirius, though his expression was annoyed. “Did you _really_ have to add my middle name?”

Sirius crossed his arms. “You said to make it dramatic. I was trying to make it dramatic.”

“Yeah, but you _know_ I’m sensitive about—never mind, we’ll talk about this later.” Clearing his throat theatrically, James turned to face Lily and Dorcas, who had who had fought her way through the confetti to stand behind Lily with a highly amused expression on her face. “Ladies, we thank you for being here at the moment of this very important announcement. Peter, cut the music, if you please.”

“Is Peter here?” Lily asked, bemused. In the downpour of confetti, it was really impossible to tell if there was anyone else in the common room. But he must have been there, because at James’ words, the music faded out.

Remus must have been somewhere in all of the confusion as well, because a moment later his mildly annoyed voice added, “Cut the confetti too, will you? _Some_ of us are trying to study. . . .”

“Alright, alright—”

James waved his wand with what Lily considered an unnecessary flourish, and the confetti finally stopped falling, settling to the ground like sparkling, vividly-colored snow. Meanwhile, from the ceiling, an enormous sign began to descend, hanging from thick golden ropes.

James looked more pleased with himself than Lily had ever seen him—which, she thought, was saying a lot.

“Now, Lily,” he said, through a positively obnoxious smirk, “would you be so kind as to please read aloud for us what is written on that sign?” 

The sign wasn’t hard to read at all: the words were written in massive, flashing red letters. Through gritted teeth, Lily read, “James Potter: 5. Lily Evans: 0.”

“Thank you _so_ very much, Lily.” With a grin that threatened to split his face in half, he jumped off the table so that he was standing beside her. He dropped an arm around her shoulders, which Lily shrugged off immediately, but he didn’t seem perturbed. “Nice scoreboard, isn’t it?” he said conversationally, gesturing at the flashing monstrosity still hanging above them. “Sirius and I thought it up after I won the first of what will be my _many_ points from Professor Kettleburn. Should be a nice way of keeping track of how far ahead of you I am in this friendly little competition.”

Lily finally managed to find her voice. “What did Professor Kettleburn give you points for? Being a pompous arse?”

“As a matter of fact, _no.”_ James unconcernedly brushed confetti from the front of his robes. “Like the brave Gryffindor that I am, I heroically saved one of my classmates from the vicious attack of a magical creature.”

Both eyebrows raised skeptically, Lily looked to Dorcas for confirmation. Dorcas rolled her eyes. “Pete got bit by a bowtruckle during class, and James lured it away with some wood lice.”

 _“Heroically,”_ James interjected.

Lily couldn’t help herself. She began to giggle. “A bowtruckle? You mean, one of those little twig things?”

“Hey!” Peter looked affronted. “They are _much_ fiercer than they let on!”

Lily couldn’t stop giggling, and by now even Dorcas had joined in. Sirius, who was now sitting on the table with his long legs dangling, fixed them both with a mock-stern look. “Listen, Evans, this was an incredibly noble victory for my friend here. Do not take this away from him!”

As the girls’ giggles turned into laughter, James shot Sirius a severe look. “Seriously, whose side are you on?”

Sirius shrugged. “Eh, I’m undecided.”

With a look of utter betrayal, James grabbed Peter by the arm. “C’mon, Pete, let’s go. I can see who my _real_ friends are.”

Sirius appeared unconcerned as James and Peter made their way to the boys dormitories. As they disappeared up the staircase, Remus, without looking up from his textbook, called after them, “Someone had better get this confetti cleaned up before our next class!”

Rolling his eyes, Sirius leaned forward to pluck a piece of purple confetti out of Lily’s hair. “I’m so glad you proposed this bet, Lily,” he admitted, with a devilish grin. “Just think, if we didn’t have this to distract us, we’d all just be studying for our exams right now, like Remus.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So with the way the story is progressing, it's already expanded past the 3 chapters I had planned. At this point it will probably be at least 5 or 6 chapters, but we'll just see how it goes! Please let me know what you think with a review!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumors fly about how James and Sirius lost those 100 points, but no one seems to know the truth behind what happened. Lily works hard to one-up James, and finds herself unable to let go of Snape's secrets.

“I heard they were caught trying to smuggle a baby manticore into the castle.”

“No, no, I heard it was a dragon.”

“Well, _I_ heard—”

As the day went on, rumors were flying thick and fast about James and Sirius. Though the entire school seemed to know about them losing one hundred points for Gryffindor, no one knew exactly _how_ those points had been lost. By dinnertime, it seemed that everyone in the castle had a theory—each one wilder than the last.

Lily rolled her eyes at Dorcas and Mary as the girls left the Great Hall that evening. The group of third year girls seated at the end of the Gryffindor table had now broken out into an argument over the most effective method of sneaking a dragon into the castle.

“People will believe _anything,”_ Lily huffed, on their way across the entrance hall to the grand staircase.

“Literally anything,” Dorcas agreed. “I started telling people that they lost the points by getting caught sneaking out to their weekly ballroom dance class in Hogsmeade, and I’ve heard at least ten people repeat it since Herbology.” 

Lily stomped her way up the staircase, Dorcas and Mary behind her. “It’s like no one has anything better to do with their lives than talk about Potter.”

“And you,” Mary pointed out fairly.

Though she wanted to, Lily found she couldn’t argue with that. All day long, students had been approaching her in the corridors, in classes, and even in the bathroom to wish her luck in the bet. Some of the students she was sure that she had never spoken to in her life. She was sure that her fellow students were so encouraging of her because they were angry with James and Sirius for giving away the lead of the House Cup to Slytherin; but still, she had to admit, it was a little flattering.

“Speak of the devil,” Dorcas remarked, grinning slyly at Lily as the girls reached the top of the staircase.

Sure enough, James was approaching them from the library corridor. Remus was right behind him, carrying a stack of books so high that his face was barely visible behind it.

“Here, let me help you, Remus,” said Dorcas quickly, taking half the stack out of his arms before he had time to protest. She sent a scathing look in James’ direction. “So much for Gryffindor chivalry.”

James was unapologetic. “My hands are full.”

He held up a hand; his fingers were wrapped tightly around a struggling, winged golden ball: the Golden Snitch. To demonstrate, he released it for a split second; the Snitch made an attempt to zoom upward, but James caught it over his head before it could get out of his reach.

Lily clapped her hands slowly. “Inspiring,” she said drily.

James quirked an eyebrow upward. “I’d like to see _you_ try it, Evans.”

Quidditch had never been Lily’s game, and James knew it. She was a decent enough flyer, but once you added in the balls and bats and everything else, it was just too much happening at once.

“I prefer football,” she said with a sniff.

“One ball, no broomsticks?” James pulled a look of disgust. “Boring.”

Dorcas was looking over Remus’ books as they continued walking. “Did you leave _any_ books about Defense in the library?”

Remus grinned sheepishly. “ _Defense for Dummies_? I’m hoping I’m beyond that.”

James snorted, releasing the Snitch once again and catching it out from under Mary’s nose. “We’ll save that one for Pete.”

Remus shot him a reproachful look, but didn’t say anything. Dorcas was flipping through the book on the top of her pile. “You really think you’ll need all of these for the exam?”

“Better safe than sorry,” said Remus with a shrug.

James rolled his eyes. “Moony always worries too much. The exam’ll be a breeze.” 

“And _I_ think that you need to take Hawthorne more seriously,” said Remus severely. “Especially after last night.”

The girls exchanged a look. “Last night?” Mary repeated.

Quickly putting two and two together, Lily added, “Was Hawthorne the one that took all those points off you and Black?”

Honestly, Lily didn’t find that surprising at all. In the year that Professor Hawthorne had been at Hogwarts, she had proven herself to be a no-nonsense teacher, with zero tolerance for troublemakers or rule-breakers. Unsurprisingly, James and Sirius hadn’t exactly managed to endear themselves to her.

“I’m afraid that’s classified, ladies,” James smirked. But, though he tried to play it off casually, Lily still noticed the warning look he sent in Remus’ direction.

“Dunno why you lot are being so secretive and mysterious about all this,” said Dorcas, rolling her eyes at James. “What’s the matter, people weren’t talking enough about you and Black lately? Had to do something to make sure everyone in the school was still paying attention to you?”

James took a moment to respond, deliberately releasing the Snitch so that it fluttered its little golden wings across Dorcas’ face before snatching it back again.

“C’mon, Meadowes, give us some credit—we’re not _that_ vain.” Ignoring Lily’s disbelieving snort, he continued, “Anyway, the only thing I want attention for right now is trouncing Evans here in our friendly little wager—which is going swimmingly, by the way.”

He flashed what he clearly thought was a charming smile in Lily’s direction, but Lily was unmoved.

“Yeah, you won a whole five points today—so that’s, what? Only ninety-five still to go?” 

James was, as ever, undaunted by Lily’s sarcasm. “Let’s consult the scoreboard when we get back to the common room, shall we, Evans? The scoreboard doesn’t lie.”

As it turned out, James was certainly right on one front—the scoreboard did _not_ lie. As it descended from the common room ceiling that evening, watched by nearly every occupant of Gryffindor House, James’ bravado finally broke.

_“WHAT? Impossible!”_

A fair amount of snickering began to break out across the common room as the flashing letters of the scoreboard revealed themselves. Sirius, sitting on one of the sofas near the fireplace, spat a mouthful of pumpkin juice in Peter’s face at the sight. 

The scoreboard now read: James Potter, 10; Lily Evans, 20.

“How?” James sputtered, rounding on Lily, who was smiling serenely and very much enjoying the moment. _“How?”_

By this point, they had the attention of the entire common room—their fellow Gryffindors weren’t even pretending to not watch the drama unfold. Lily folded her arms across her chest.

“I stayed behind after Herbology this afternoon to help Professor Sprout tidy up the greenhouse. She was very grateful for the help.”

 James opened and closed his mouth several times, but no matter how many times he tried, no words came out. Lily didn’t think she had ever seen James Potter speechless before, and she liked the sight perhaps more than she should.

She leaned in teasingly, bumping his glasses as she moved her lips near his ear. “Don’t worry, I’ll take _very_ good care of your shirt, Potter. I think I’ll look pretty great in it at that concert, actually.”

As she sashayed off in the direction of the girls’ dormitories, James finally found his voice.

“Just you wait, Evans—I’m just getting started.”

Lily turned around in the doorway to the dormitories, a hand on her hip and a smile playing at her lips. “Bring it on, Potter.”

She turned on her heel to go up the stairs, but not before she heard Remus’ amused voice from below. “You sure you know what you’ve gotten yourself into, Prongs?”

And she couldn’t repress a smile as she heard James reply, “Not in the slightest, Moony. Not in the slightest.”

 

 

Lily had never been so excited to go to a Potions class before.

This was actually saying a lot, as Potions was one of Lily’s favorite subjects. She’d worked especially hard in the class over the last couple of years; after al, high marks were vital to pursuing her intended career as a Healer. Potions had always made sense to Lily—it reminded her of cooking with her mum. It was all about precision, adding the right ingredients at the right time in just the right way. It was always thrilling to her to watch a potion come together in the end.

But her excitement about today’s Potions class had nothing whatsoever to do with the thrill of potion-brewing, or pursuing her future career. No, today she was excited because she knew that winning points during this class would be a piece of cake, and she couldn’t wait to rub it in James Potter’s face.

As she entered the dungeon classroom that morning, she strayed from her usual seat and took a spot at the very front of the class. Dorcas followed her loyally, though she looked disgruntled at having to be in the front. But this was a very important part of Lily’s plan.

James may have been a favorite of Professor McGonagall, but Lily was an undisputed favorite student of Professor Slughorn. And fortunately for Lily, Professor Slughorn was much more prone to showing his favoritism than Professor McGonagall—especially if he was properly buttered up first.

“Professor, are those new robes?” Lily asked sweetly, as Professor Slughorn set his briefcase down on his desk. “They look quite dashing!”

Dorcas shot Lily a look of pure disgust, which Lily ignored. Professor Slughorn, on the other hand, let out a hearty chortle and puffed out his considerable chest. “You really think so, my dear? Well thank you very much!”

Once Slughorn had turned away again, Lily turned casually in her seat to catch James’ eye. He pretended to vomit into his cauldron. She stuck her tongue out in response. Their very mature exchange was interrupted by Professor Slughorn, who had returned to Lily’s desk. Lily whirled back around with a start, pressing her lips together firmly and trying to ignore James laughing behind her.

Fortunately, Slughorn didn’t seem to have noticed anything amiss. “One more thing, my dear—I wanted you to be among the first to know that next week I will be hosting one last soiree for the Slug Club. You know, just a little get-together to celebrate the end of the school year! It will be the night before the end of the term feast. Of course, as always, you’re most welcome as well, Miss Meadowes,” he added solicitously, turning his attention on Dorcas, who managed to fake a passably convincing smile.

Lily jumped in before Dorcas had a chance to respond. “Thank you so much for the invitation, Professor! We’d _love_ to come.”

Dorcas’s expression was nothing short of betrayed as Professor Slughorn made his way to the front of the classroom and began the day’s lesson. “No, no, don’t you rope _me_ into this! I refuse to take any part of this.”

“Oh come on—what if he invites that Quidditch player you love so much? You know, the one from the Harpies that came last year? What’s her name—Gladys something—”

“Glynis Davies,” Dorcas corrected her automatically. On seeing Lily’s triumphant smile, Dorcas narrowed her eyes. “Don’t do this, Evans. Don’t toy with me. You know what Glynis means to me—”

“You’re fresh off of winning Gryffindor the Quidditch Cup—maybe she could put in a good word for you with the Harpies next year—”

“You’re diabolical, you know that?” Dorcas sank low into her seat and glowered at Lily. “I mean it. You’re the worst. I don’t know why I’m friends with you.”

Lily, who knew when she’d won an argument, beamed at her. “Oh, stop. You love me.” Without hesitating, Lily turned away from Dorcas and faced Professor Slughorn, who had just finished asking a question about the Draught of Living Death, and thrust her hand into the air.

A small smile twitched around Professor Slughorn’s lips. “Miss Evans?”

“The only known antidote to the Draught of Living Death is the Wiggenweld Potion, which will awaken the drinker from any slumber.”

Professor Slughorn’s smile broadened into one of pride. “Quite right, Miss Evans. Take five points to Gryffindor.”

A self-satisfied smile taking over her lips, Lily couldn’t resist turning around again to look at James. She mouthed the word “five” and held up all five of her fingers and waved them at him tauntingly. He put a hand over his mouth and pretended to yawn. Still smirking, Lily tossed her hair over shoulder and turned her attention back to Professor Slughorn.

Dorcas, meanwhile, only shook her head. “Insufferable,” she muttered, “the both of you.”

By the time that class had ended, Lily had managed to earn another ten points for Gryffindor due to the perfect, pearly sheen on her potion. Dorcas elbowed her as the girls walked out of the classroom together.

“I’m impressed, Evans. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone suck up to a teacher as efficiently as you did today. Well done.”

The sarcasm was practically oozing out of her voice, but Lily refused to take the bait. “Well it was worth it, wasn’t it? Fifteen points! I’m well ahead of Potter now!”

“For once, Meadowes is right,” came a voice from behind them. “I think I speak for all of us when I say that that display in class was truly sickening, Evans.”

Marcus Avery was leering behind them, flanked as always by Mulciber and Snape. Dorcas flared up instantly.

“I think _I_ speak for all of us, Avery, when I say that you’re an asshole. And if we ever want your opinion—which I doubt—we’ll ask for it.”

Something about being friends with Dorcas—it didn’t matter at all to her that, mere moments ago, she’d been criticizing Lily for essentially the same thing. The second anyone else chose to insult her friends, she would leap in and defend them to the death.

Avery appeared unmoved by Dorcas’ harsh words, however. He smirked. “Last I checked, I don’t need your permission to share my opinion. And I’m just getting started. What do you think, Mulciber, Snape? Who did Evans spend the most time flirting with in class—Slughorn, or Potter?”

Mulciber let out a guffaw. Snape, on the other hand, did not look amused. Without looking at any of them, he muttered something about being late for his next class, and took off down the corridor without so much as a backward glance.

Watching him go, Lily thought again of the picture of the Dark Mark that she had found among his things. She hadn’t been able to shake the image from her mind since seeing it in class yesterday morning—it had continued to crop up, unbidden, while she was trying to fall asleep last night. She kept telling herself to just forget about it—after all, it wasn’t any business of hers what Snape got up to anymore.

But it wasn’t just about Snape. If he was involved in this Death Eater business, then, at the very least, Mulciber and Avery were as well. And there was no telling what other Slytherins might also be among them. It was chilling, thinking that budding Death Eaters might be all around them. Hogwarts was supposed to be a safe space, but Lily was quickly learning that, in this coming war, there was no place that was truly safe.

With a sinking feeling, Lily knew what she had to do.

Dorcas, meanwhile, had told Avery to go do something that earned her scandalized looks from several second year students who were on their way into the Potions classroom. Lily grabbed her arm.

“C’mon, Dorcas, just leave it. They’re not worth it.”

“But—”

“Come _on.”_

Lily tugged on her arm, which was ineffective in a physical sense, since Dorcas was significantly taller than Lily, but succeeded in at least getting her attention. Dorcas reluctantly followed Lily down the corridor, ranting furiously all the while.

“I can’t _believe_ you’re just going to walk away from that, Lily—I mean—that little _shit—_ I should’ve just cursed him—put a boil on his—”

“Dorcas, _leave it,”_ said Lily firmly. She was only half-listening to her raging friend, anyway. Her eyes were fixed on the dark figure moving through the corridor ahead of them. “Hey, listen, you go on to Charms without me—I just remembered that I, er, left my essay in the common room—”

Dorcas frowned, looking unconvinced. “You’ll never make it back in time, you’ll be late for class—just tell Flitwick you forgot, you know how he is, he’ll understand—”

Ahead of them, the figure she’d been following had turned a corner and disappeared. Lily shook her head frantically. “No, no, it’s fine! I’ll just take it at a run! You go on without me!”

And with that, Lily practically sprinted away from her bemused friend, and turned down the corridor after Snape.

He hadn’t got far—he was halfway down the corridor, about to turn into the Ancient Runes classroom when Lily caught up to him. She skidded to a halt beside him, but Snape, unflappable as ever, barely raised an eyebrow.

“We need to talk,” she said shortly.

His expression remained unchanged. “I have class,” he said coolly, making a move towards the door, but Lily grabbed him by the arm.

Fueled by equal parts adrenaline and desperation, Lily hissed, “If you don’t come talk to me, I’ll go straight to Professor Dumbledore and tell him you’re a Death Eater.”

At that, he froze. His lip curled upward into his familiar sneer—though it had never been directed at her before. She tried not to let it bother her. He turned to face her, her hand still on his arm, his eyes meeting hers for the first time.

“And with what proof, exactly?” 

“I’ll tell him what I saw,” Lily snapped. For some reason, his lack of emotional reaction angered her more than anything else. “That picture of the Dark Mark in your bag.”

Snape shook his head, his sneer turning almost menacing. “Last I checked, that picture was in _my_ possession, not yours. And even if that weren’t the case, you’d tell Dumbledore—what, exactly? That’s a pretty serious accusation to make based on one picture.”

When Lily spoke again, she could feel her voice shaking. Even though it was from anger, not fear, she hated how weak it made her sound. “Not just a picture. Everything you and your _mates_ get up to. Dark magic—cursing _Mudbloods—”_

She practically spat the last word at him. It had been just a year ago, after all, that he had called her that very same word in front of half the school. At the time, he had begged for her forgiveness, and had tried to tell her that he didn’t mean it. But now, hearing the word from her very own lips, he didn’t even flinch.

He wrenched his arm from her grasp, the billowing sleeves of his robes hissing through the air as he moved away from her. “No proof,” he repeated simply. “Anything else?”

There was nothing familiar in his black eyes as he stared down at her, nothing she recognized in the face that was still contorted into a sneer. What had happened to the little boy who had so openly welcomed her into the world of magic, the one she thought she had known for so many years?

She shook her head. “I guess not.” She didn’t know what she had been hoping for, exactly. A denial, at least, but Snape hadn’t even bothered with that pretense. She made as if to leave, but then turned back to him at the last second. “Why _did_ you have that picture in your bag? If you don’t want any proof around linking you to the Death Eaters?” Her mind whirred as she began putting pieces together. “Who sent it to you? I saw the writing on the back—it wasn’t yours. Who—?”

She stopped short abruptly at the look on his face. He advanced on her slowly, his robes billowing threateningly, and for the first time, Lily thought she might be afraid of Severus Snape.

“If you keep asking questions,” he said, his voice low and icily cold, “you’re going to get yourself into trouble. If you know what’s good for you, then you’ll stay out of this.”

With one last, menacing look, Snape turned and disappeared through the doorway into the Ancient Runes classroom.

Lily stood, rooted to the spot, for several minutes after Snape had gone, her mind still buzzing. There was a lot she didn’t know, but there was one thing she knew for sure: she didn’t care _what_ Snape threatened her with—she definitely wasn’t going to stay out of this.

 


End file.
